


Who Needs A Guide?

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Angst, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotions, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Rituals, Sentinel Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek is a sentinel who doesn't need a guide. Good thing, too, because what he ends up getting is in fact not a guide.





	Who Needs A Guide?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyrose_Catara_Danza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyrose_Catara_Danza/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for Skyrose. I hope you have a happy one, friend! <3
> 
> Unbetaed, but looked over for plot holes and stuff by my best bro Rita. <3

When Derek presents as a sentinel, no one is surprised. His genetic testing had already shown a high likelihood, and considering that the vast majority of his family members are either sentinels or guides it's barely even made a fuss over when his abilities start emerging.

 

What does eventually raise some eyebrows is that even after months and eventually years of being a fully developed sentinel, Derek has no control issues. None. Zip. Nada.

 

Usually it's only a matter of months before the need for a guide becomes so dire that, if the sentinel doesn't already have one lined up, they appeal to one of the many matchmaking services to avoid falling into permanent overload coma, also known as _Torpor_. Even a temporary guide can keep them centered enough to remain functional, but the end goal is to find a bonded partner for life. Some are romantic, others are platonic, and yet others are vaguely hostile, but when it works it works.

 

But Derek? Derek functions just fine on his own.

 

“It's weird,” Stiles says, head hanging off his bed so he's looking at Derek upside down. “I mean... you're like... an outlier. A special case. A _unicorn!_ ”

 

“Ugh, Stiles, would you stop saying that? I'm not that special.”

 

“You are, though!” Stiles cries, arms flailing into the air. “I mean, just imagine! Maybe the cure for sentinel torpor is somewhere deep in your genetics!”

 

Derek rolls his eyes. “There _is_ a cure for sentinel torpor. It's called _getting a guide_.”

 

“Not if your guide died or something, Derek. Like... how about a guide who dies in a car crash and leaves their sentinel spouse to fall into torpor, landing their three kids in the foster care system?!”

 

It's not that Derek hasn't thought about it. As a sentinel he's acutely aware of the fact that he's the one at a huge disadvantage. A guide can live on without their sentinel. It doesn't usually work the other way around.

 

“All the more reason for me to not look too hard at it. As long as I don't need a guide, I'm not getting a guide. I don't want my lifespan to depend on how accident prone my guide might be.” He sends Stiles a pointed look, because while Stiles isn't a guide he's most certainly accident prone.

 

Stiles rolls over on his bed so he can look at Derek the right way up and frown at him. “Don't you think you're being selfish, though? Shouldn't you be in a lab somewhere giving blood to scientists or something?”

 

Derek sighs, and considers going home. He's had a headache building all morning, and he's not in the mood to argue right now. “I _have_ given blood, and no one seems interested in looking that hard at it, Stiles. Maybe because I'm not actually that unique? I'm not the first sentinel without a guide.”

 

“But you're still part of a super exclusive group, Derek! Only something like 0.05 percent of sentinels make it over a year without a guide, and you're eighteen months in!”

 

It's not like Derek isn't aware of it, but his head is throbbing now, and he puts down the comic book he'd swiped off Stiles' desk when he came in. He's not sure why he'd even started looking through it, because he didn't exactly come over to hang out. Well, okay, he did, but hanging out with Stiles always ends the same way, and Derek is tired today, so he'd really rather move things along.

 

“Look, I get that you're fired up about this, and I'm sure you've been researching-”

 

“Okay, so maybe I have, whatever, I'm just worried about you, you can't blame me for-”

 

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm fine with it, and I'll be more than happy to continue this discussion-slash-argument later, but right now, do you mind if I crash? My head is killing me.”

 

“Oh,” Stiles says softly, going still in the middle of some descriptive hand gestures that were clearly paving the way for more arguments. “Oh, uh. Sure.” He looks almost shy as he moves over on his bed so Derek can stretch out and finally breathe a sigh of relief.

 

It's not exactly a new thing. Derek has been conking out on Stiles' bed almost since the day they first became friends several years ago in high school, but usually it's a more natural progression of banter, horsing around, movie watching or reading side by side on Stiles' bed, and Derek eventually dropping off to sleep. When he wakes up Stiles calls him an old man needing so many naps, Derek snarks back, and they do it all over again next time.

 

Stiles' pillow always smelled nice, even before Derek's sentinel abilities emerged. He suspects it's either Stiles' shampoo or maybe something subtle in his diet, but it smells sweet, and it always lulls Derek to sleep like nothing else, so he doesn't hesitate to burrow into it with a pleased groan. Stiles makes a small noise next to him, but Derek is not in the mood to pay attention to whatever is bothering Stiles now. It's officially nap time.

 

He wakes up an undetermined amount of time later to Stiles next to him, typing away at his laptop. Derek doesn't bother him, because he knows better than most how hard it usually is for Stiles to focus on anything, so he's not about to disturb him. Stiles must sense he's awake, though, because he doesn't even stop typing to look at him as he speaks.

 

“You know... I got tested too,” he says, and his voice is weirdly tense.

 

It's news to Derek. Testing isn't mandatory, and unless you have reason to believe you're predisposed or hopeful that your romantic relationship might evolve to that of sentinel and guide – which the media loves to portray as somehow deeper or more significant than just plain ol' love – there's really no reason for most people to waste money on it.

 

“Why?” Derek asks softly. As far as he knows there are no guides or sentinels in Stiles' family, and Stiles has never even dated anyone, so it's kinda baffling.

 

“Because I'm an idiot,” Stiles says, sounding bitter. “Because I'm an obsessive little shit who put all my chips on one hand and come out the loser every time.” He finally stops typing, but still doesn't look at Derek. “I just... wanted to believe. But it's not important.”

 

Even without superior senses Derek can tell that he's lying. It's _very_ important, and Derek sits up slowly, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes, because whatever is going on right now he's pretty sure he needs to be alert for it. “Wanted to believe... what?” he asks softly, feeling like Stiles might shatter if Derek doesn't treat him gently.

 

Stiles just shakes his head, eyes dropping to his hands, immobile on the keyboard.

 

Derek waits a little while, assuming that Stiles will eventually explain. But the silence draws long, so maybe he needs prompting. “Stiles... you're my best friend. You know that. I give you a lot of shit, but... you _know_ , right? So you can tell me. Whatever it is.”

 

Shaking his head again, Stiles snaps his laptop shut and swings his legs off the bed. “No. Not this. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I'm sorry,” he says, and Derek should probably feel bad for using his superior speed to take hold of Stiles' arm before he can make a run for it, but something tells Derek he needs to hear this.

 

“Yes. This. No matter what you tell me, I'll always be your friend.”

 

Stiles lets out a sad huff, but doesn't try to pull himself out of Derek's grip. Which is good, because Derek would let him go, and then they'd get nowhere. “That's the whole problem, Derek.”

 

A cold weight settles in Derek's gut, but he shoves it harshly aside, because there's no way Stiles means it like Derek fears. There's simply no way.

 

“Explain. Please?”

 

There's a long, pregnant pause where the silence in the room is like a roar to Derek's sensitive ears. He can hear so many things, like Stiles' erratic heartbeat and his gurgling stomach, the air condition downstairs, and every car on the street for a mile. But in Stiles' room it's like the very air is still, and it's supremely unnerving to Derek.

 

After what feels like an eternity Stiles sinks down on the bed again, his tense back the only thing he lets Derek see. But he doesn't shake off Derek's hold on his forearm, and Derek takes it as a peace offering.

 

“I got into a research spiral on your... condition. And I'll be honest, I still don't understand how no one has researched people like you yet. Torpor is... a nightmare. Locked in a coma, only realistic outcome being death. Why is no one looking into stopping it?”

 

“Romantic notions reinforced by the media, probably,” Derek murmurs, and considers it a win when Stiles snorts.

 

“Yeah, probably. Thing is, though... I can't help but hope you're just a late bloomer or something, because this is agony.”

 

Derek frowns. “I would have thought you would have preferred me like this? I mean, if I don't need a guide for control, I probably won't ever end up in torpor?”

 

The sound Stiles makes is somewhere between a laugh and a pained sigh. “I know. Which makes me feel even worse.”

 

“I'm sorry, but I really don't understand what you're saying,” Derek admits, and Stiles shakes his head.

 

“No worries. People usually don't.”

 

“But I _want_ to. So... explain it to me? Please?”

 

Stiles looks up at the ceiling, and sighs so hard his shoulders slump. “I wanted... to be your guide. The minute you told me about your test I got one too, hoping I'd somehow get lucky, even though there's been nothing but plain ol' human in my blood line ever, as far as I know.”

 

Derek isn't as surprised as he feels he should be. Stiles has never made it much of a secret that he expects their friendship to last forever. That's just his nature. Once he sinks his teeth into something, he never lets go, and, really, Derek should have guessed there'd be some unavoidable jealousy towards whatever guide he might end up with. Even if he'd get a guide he doesn't even like, the bond will make sure their lives follow a parallel path. No wonder Stiles wanted that for himself with Derek.

 

“I dunno why you thought you couldn't tell me that, Stiles,” Derek says softly. “I get it, and I wish you could be my guide too.”

 

“No, you don't get it!” Stiles says, suddenly angry, getting to his feet and ripping his arm out of Derek's gentle hold. “You don't get it, Derek! I want to be the one bonded to you! I want a connection that nothing short of _death_ can break apart, and I want that with _you_.”

 

Now that Derek can see his face he looks wrecked. Sad, upset, scared. Derek wants to comfort him, but he's pretty sure if he touches Stiles now he'll punch Derek in the face. Not that it'll hurt that much, but still.

 

“I want that with you,” Stiles says again, voice cracking, and that's when Derek's useless goddamn brain finally catches up.

 

“You... Stiles, are you... in love with me?”

 

Stiles doesn't answer. Instead he turns on his heel, and storms out of his own room, which is all the answer Derek needs. He's left sitting on Stiles' bed, alone and confused.

 

Why the hell didn't Stiles _tell_ him?

 

* * *

 

Derek's own feelings about Stiles have always been somewhat muddled. They've been best friends pretty much since the day they met, first day of high school, but at the same time they've always had a weird tension between them. Spending time together is always awesome, but there's also no one in the world who can piss Derek off as much and as quickly as Stiles. And considering Derek has Laura for a sister, that is saying a lot.

 

In any case, Derek has never felt like there was any rush to figure out why Stiles pushes all of his buttons the way he does, except now Stiles doesn't want to talk to him. They've never been apart for more than a week the entire time they've known each other, but it's been two and a half weeks now, and Stiles still isn't answering Derek's calls or texts. He's getting extremely antsy, and is half ready to just march up to Stiles' house and keep banging on the door until he's let in. It probably won't do any good, though, because Stiles is the most stubborn person Derek knows, and will probably burrow his way out through the yard rather than open the door to face Derek.

 

Sheer desperation finally drives Derek to have a talk with his mother. Being a genetic trait, sentinels and guides are usually contained within families, so while there _is_ a brief law-mandated course for the basics once you present as one or the other, it's implied that you're expected to learn from your family members, or perhaps your bonded partner.

 

So Derek bites the bullet, and goes where the knowledge is, despite feeling his teeth grind at the thought of having to discuss his emotional life with his mom. He usually depends on his dad for these things, but his dad is a guide, and Derek has an annoying suspicion that he'll need a fellow sentinel for this, so. Needs must.

 

“Mom? Can we talk?” he asks, poking his head into her study one night.

 

“Sure, sweetheart,” she says, putting her files away. As much as she's better at punching things than being emotionally supportive, she's always put her family first, and Derek takes a moment to thank his lucky stars he has parents like he does. “What's up?”

 

“It's... about Stiles,” he says cautiously, plopping down in the chair next to hers, where Dad sometimes sits just to be near her when she works, because they're disgustingly in love even after decades of being married. “He told me... well. Turns out he has... feelings for me.”

 

“Okay?” Talia says, sounding hesitant, which is fair. This is definitely the sort of thing her husband usually deals with.

 

“Yeah. And now he's pissed at me because I don't need a guide. Or maybe because I'm not dedicated to fighting sentinel torpor, I'm not sure.”

 

Talia frowns at him. “You're not making a lot of sense right now, sweetie.”

 

“Tell me about it. Nothing makes sense. It's not _my_ fault that I'm apparently some kind of special unicorn sentinel who doesn't need a guide,” Derek rants, rubbing his forehead with frustration. “But Stiles is still pissed at me, but also maybe in love with me, and I don't know what I'm feeling at all, and I hate this!”

 

Weirdly, this makes Talia lean forward. “Derek... kiddo, forgive me the blunt question, but... have you ever been in love with anyone?”

 

Derek has to take a moment to think about it. “No? I... I don't think so? Why, what does that matter?”

 

“Well... remember the story of how I fell in love with your dad?”

 

“Yeah. Love at first sight.”

 

“Not quite,” Talia says, a small smile pulling at her cheek. “I didn't even like him that much at first. But then we did the bonding ritual, and somewhere in the middle... it just happened. It was like... seeing in full color for the first time. Like something inside me had been... I dunno, locked down or something. Like my soul or feelings or whatever were kinda on pause until the right person came along. And before the ritual, I could never quite get a handle on what – if anything – I was feeling for anyone. Sure, I had crushes and so on, but... it was _nothing_ compared to your dad.”

 

“So... you're saying if I don't get a guide, I might not ever fall in love?”

 

Talia shrugs. “You might. No one really knows how any of this works, deep down. All I know is what happened to me.”

 

This whole thing feels weird to Derek. He can't imagine meeting someone random guide, and then magically falling for them after a few traditional words. That just feels wrong somehow.

 

“Hey,” Talia says softly, putting a strong hand on his knee. “One thing worth remembering, though: I chose your dad. Out of a lot of options, I chose him. I'm still not sure why. I liked several other guides better. But something about him spoke to me. So don't feel like you have no agency. In a way, you have more agency than most, since you don't seem to have a limited time period to make your choice. Hell, a week and a half after presenting I was having constant headaches so bad we had to make your Aunt Milly my temporary guide just so I could make it to the Central California Guide Agency a day's car ride away.”

 

Something niggles at Derek's brain, and thanks to her sentinel senses Talia realizes that's he's being thrown for a loop by his own mind, and doesn't interrupt his sudden pondering.

 

“I did choose,” he mutters to himself. “I... that first day of high school.” He remembers it so clearly, still. Stiles had been his usual self, attracting everyone's attention – including Derek's – by falling on his face and making his lunch fly off his tray as it soared through the air. Derek had taken one look at him and decided they needed to be friends. He hadn't for the life of him been able to fathom why at the time, but he'd never regretted it.

 

And the headaches... they go away when he's close to Stiles or his smell long enough. Derek's actually been having headaches on and off for a few days now, but he'd assumed it was just from tension or something considering his current situation with Stiles.

 

“I did choose,” he says again, louder, and Talia smiles at him.

 

“Well, then maybe you don't have a problem after all?”

 

Derek barks out a laugh. “No, Mom, I do have a problem, and it's huge. But I think maybe I can fix this one on my own. Thanks for the talk,” he says as he gets up. “Love you.”

 

“Love you too, sweetie!” Talia calls after him as he rushes out the door.

 

* * *

 

Stiles jumps about a mile when Derek rolls through his bedroom window without hesitation half an hour later.

 

“Christ, Derek, do you know what time it is?! And did you forget that I'm not speaking to you?! And did you also forget that using your sentinel powers like this is kinda illegal?!”Stiles rants, but Derek just steps up to him and takes hold of both his hands, stopping their agitated flailing.

 

“I lost my way,” Derek says, and Stiles stops dead, frozen to the spot.

 

“Derek...”

 

“I lost my way,” he says again, squeezing Stiles' hands as they shake.

 

“Derek, I'm not... I can't-”

 

“Stiles... I lost... my way.”

 

There's a long, suspended moment where Derek wonders if he truly stepped in it this time, but then Stiles swallows hard, eyes locked on Derek's. “Do you wish for a guide?” Stiles asks, voice barely a whisper, and Derek could cry from relief.

 

“I do.”

 

“Will you let me guide you?”

 

“Yes. Will you let me protect you?”

 

Stiles hesitates, but finally does answer, completing the simple core part of the lengthy bonding ceremony. “Yes. But, Derek... I can't... I not a guide,” he argues, voice cracking, but Derek barely hears him from the rushing in his ears.

 

It's finally all there. What Derek had thought were superior senses before now seem like nothing at all compared to the swell of power rushing through him. He feels stronger, faster, _better_. And he feels so much affection and adoration for this person he chose for himself before he knew why. He knows now, though. They were meant to be together. Whether as friends, lovers, family, allies... that's not important. All Derek knows right now is the immense feeling of rightness warming him to the bone, and he squeezes Stiles' hands again, helpless against the smile widening on his face.

 

Derek loved Stiles before, sure. But this? Now Derek is glad he never fell in love before, because he genuinely can't imagine wanting to love anyone else the way he loves Stiles now.

 

“You know what?” Derek says once he can find his own voice again. “I don't a give a shit. And honestly, I don't think the mystical sentinel side of me does either. You might not be a guide. But you're _my_ guide.”

 

“But-”

 

“I need you, Stiles. Whatever you are or aren't. First time I saw you, I chose you. And I'm sorry it took me so goddamn long to figure out why.”

 

Stiles' hands shake again, and Derek gives in to the urge to bring them to his lips for a kiss. As soon as he makes contact, Stiles lets out a shocked breath of air, and when Derek looks up to meet his gaze, his eyes are wide and awed.

 

“What is even happening right now?” Stiles whispers, and Derek smiles at him.

 

“Magic, I think. Guess the media isn't off as much as we thought.”

 

Stiles lets out a startled laugh, and Derek drinks him in. “Oh, the media is definitely wrong, and once I get my degree I'll prove it.”

 

“I know you will,” Derek says warmly, and as if to prove the magic of the moment, an almost irresistible pull makes Derek lean in for a kiss before considering whether it's a good idea, but Stiles only hesitates for a fraction of a second before meeting him half way with all the enthusiasm of someone who's been waiting for far too long.

 

Several years later, Stiles publishes his thesis on the poorly understood divide between soulmates and sentinel/guide bonds, and how they sometimes intersect. It's only very marginally related to his actual degree, but the world in general is so floored about his theories that everyone seems to forget about that part.

 

Derek no longer has to sneak-nap at Stiles', because there's an actual Stiles in his bed every night now, and their house smells like him, and his name is inside the wedding band on Derek's finger.

 

Who needs a guide?

 

End.

 

 

 


End file.
